


In which Bangtan meets Seventeen

by itsdatrollmon



Series: Mon's Canon Compliant YoonJin Fics [2]
Category: SEVENTEEN (Band), 방탄소년단 | Bangtan Boys | BTS
Genre: Adore U Era, Canon Compliant, Confessions, Domestic, Fluff, Humor, M/M, Pining, Slice of Life, crossover i guess, dope era, fanboy kim seokjin, pink princess jin, pink princess kim seokjin, so does the entirety of bangtan, the entirety of seventeen gets a mention
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-11-01
Updated: 2015-11-01
Packaged: 2018-04-29 10:19:32
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,288
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5123942
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/itsdatrollmon/pseuds/itsdatrollmon
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Because Kim Seokjin likes pink and all things pinkish, it’s him who notices -him- first.</p><p>“Oh my god,” his whisper is as strong as his grip on Yoongi’s arm, “oh my god look at that.” His finger leaves an oily print on the glass screen, and it’s an effective marker to locate exactly what that was.</p><p>-- In which Bangtan meets Seventeen, and it poses one very big problem for Min Yoongi, who kind of really likes Kim Seokjin.</p>
            </blockquote>





	In which Bangtan meets Seventeen

**Author's Note:**

> Ah, I wanted this to be a longer fic. If other people want to borrow the idea, please go ahead!  
> Fic makes a lot of references to videos and fandom, but can be understood without having watched those stuff.
> 
> Please remember to leave a kudos/comment to keep me alive~! <3

 

 

Because Kim Seokjin likes pink and all things pinkish, it’s him who notices _him_ first.

 

“Oh my god,” his whisper is as strong as his grip on Yoongi’s arm, “ _oh my god_ look at that.” His finger leaves an oily print on the glass screen, and it’s an effective marker to locate exactly what _that_ was.

 

So Yoongi rolls his eyes, and looks. _He’s_ small and tiny, and extremely pale, but Yoongi’s eyes stray to the top of his head and _now_ he understands what’s got Seokjin so worked up because, well, that’s…really pink.

 

Big deal. Yoongi’s had pink hair too, and his was a closer shade to Seokjin’s favorite pink socks, so he lets Seokjin know. But Seokjin just does this weird spazzing thing while clasping his own hands together and fiercely mutters a “but he’s so _small_! And so _pink_!”

 

That’s when Taehyung pops out from nowhere, half-finished makeup smeared across his t-zone. He watches the screen once, looks at Yoongi, does a double-take, and says, “oh my god, it’s a _tiny Yoongi-hyung._ ”

 

“But _cuter_ ,” Seokjin adds unnecessarily. So that’s when Yoongi huffs, crosses his arms, and scowls his way to the other side of the room because _what does Seokjin know_. He touches his blonde locks in front of the mirror, takes a moment to tug them into place until they make him look like a badass.

 

But when he sees Seokjin’s reflection clutzing through the moves to _Adore U_ , something churns in his belly and his phone’s suddenly a lot more interesting than his face.

 

Yoongi didn’t _want_ to be cute, anyway. That’s for sissies.

 

 ---

 

Within 5 minutes Seokjin finds out that _he_ went by the name ‘Woozi’, though his real name was ‘Lee Jihoon’, and Yoongi’d point out how completely stalkerish Seokjin was being if it wasn’t for how he can’t even put in a word edgewise because Seokjin’s going all _Woozi this_ and _Jihoon that_ and _Yoongi he’s so talented but he’s so tiny and he’s so pink –_

 

“Yoongi, he’s so _talented,_ ” Seokjin breathes out. They’re in their room, winding down after a long day of _Dope_ promotions. Their beds are pushed together and Terminator is playing in the background, but Seokjin’s shoulders are hunched around a laptop on his knees like some sort of rude motherfucker who can’t appreciate good movies. Yoongi groans, rolls over to his back, and flops an arm over his eyes.

 

 _Yes._ “You’ll tell me anyway,” he says, definitely not grinding his teeth. Either he did a good job, or Seokjin’s an oblivious fuck, because Seokjin – definitely doesn’t squeal, but the sound he makes is close enough – and shoves YouTube into Yoongi’s face.

 

It’s the kid again, but his hair is an inky black, and – wow, okay. Yoongi’s ears pop, because the kid’s voice scales impossibly high and the laptop speaker’s loud enough to drown out Arnold Schwarzenegger on TV. Holy _fuck._ That’s kind of really amazing.

“Holy fuck,” Yoongi says out loud. Apparently his reaction’s exactly what Seokjin wanted, because his eyes curve upwards like crescent moons and his grin’s extended from ear to ear.

 

“He’s such a talented _baby_ ,” Seokjin fucking _coos_ like some sort of besotted _fangirl._ He sounds so fucking ridiculous that Yoongi has to stare at him incredulously.

 

But the expression on Seokjin’s face makes him pause, and like some sort of terrible cliché with great timing, Schwarzenegger chooses that moment to blow up a building.

 

_Fuck._

 

\--

 

“ _Ajikdo jojeori andwae_ ," Jungkook sings like an idiot backstage. Yoongi glares at him regally from his lounge on a flimsy plastic chair.

 

Jungkook starts miming Seventeen’s dance. Yoongi stretches his leg out and catches the kid’s ankle with the curve of his foot.

 

The face Jungkook makes as he falls is made of the deepest betrayal. It’s not the worst full-body crash Yoongi has caused, but their makeup artist’s gonna flip when she sees that streak of dirt on Jungkook’s painstakingly cleaned face. Still funny as heck, though.

 

The speakers announce the end of Seventeen’s dry rehearsal on The Show set as Jungkook picks himself up with about 0% fuss. He whines, being annoying just for the sake of it, “Yoongi-hyung, that wasn’t nice.”

 

 _Please_. If he has the energy to whine then he isn’t that hurt. Yoongi levels him with a deadpan stare, but he does help pull Jungkook back to his feet because he isn’t a heartless SOB. Jungkook touches the dirt on his cheek, and the way he scrubs the dirt off with his sleeve is gross as fuck.

 

“Noona’s going to scold you,” two noonas, actually: their makeup artist and their stylist. Jungkook shrugs.

 

“She’ll let me off. She likes me.”

 

The worst thing about that is that it’s true. Jeon Jungkook’s the charmer of the group, even if Seokjin’s way prettier, because at least Jungkook’s got the social awareness to interpret people properly.  Little Jungkookie deserves credit for that, so Yoongi lets him know by reaching out to mess up his hair. Nobody’s gonna mind.

 

Of course, that perceptiveness has a bad side. “What’s bothering you, hyung?” Jungkook asks, and he looks smug when Yoongi’s hand pauses mid-hair ruffle. Yoongi shoves Jungkook’s haughty little head.

 

“’m just tired.”

 

Obviously, Jungkook doesn’t believe it by miles. He plops down on the ground beside Yoongi, rests his chin on his folded arms, and doesn’t say anything for a long time. There’s a silence, but it’s not like the ones Yoongi shares with Seokjin, because Seokjin doesn’t look at him like a freakish nerd itching to dissect him for a Nobel prize.

 

Jungkook won’t make Yoongi fidget. _Definitely_ won’t.

 

…okay, maybe a little. He’s just about to tell Jungkook to _quit it, kid_ , but that’s when Seokjin rounds the corner into their little hut backstage. 

 

All the other chairs are free, so Yoongi stands. It’s not a big deal, except Jungkook gets this thoughtful look on his face, so Yoongi kicks dirt at his little seagull face.

 

“Guys,” Seokjin’s excited for some reason. Jungkook looks up at him expectantly. Yoongi turns, curious despite himself, and _oh hell no._

“Guess who I met?” Seokjin continues. There’s a little human-shaped _thing_ following him into the tent. Its hair is what Yoongi has come to register as offensively pink, kind of like how offended Yoongi feels right now. Fucking _great_.

 

“Oh, hi!” Jungkook leaps up from his crouch on the ground and bounds his way to the newcomer. “You’re one of Seventeen, right?”

 

“His name’s Woozi!” Seokjin introduces excitedly. His arm lands heavily on Woozi’s shoulder. The pale kid stumbles forward a little, tries to regain his balance with the most dignity he can manage. He looks so dwarfed beside Seokjin’s huge form. “Look at him Kookie, isn’t he just adorable?”

 

Yoongi takes some pleasure at Woozi’s flinch at being called _adorable_. Serves him right.

 

“Ah – nice to meet you, Suga-sunbaenim, Jungkook-sunbaenim,” Woozi’s got a deeper, more solid voice than he expected. He bows, and Yoongi kind of hates how his sleeves slide down to cover his fingers because Seokjin’s just gonna find that as another thing that makes Woozi cute. Judging by the amused laugh Seokjin gives, he does.

 

“He’s older than you, did you know what Jungkook-ah?”

 

Woozi looks awkward when Jungkook says _hi, Woozi-hyung_ and bows at him, and it’s like he’s not really sure why he’s there. If looks could burn, his hand tugging on Seokjin’s shirt could’ve exploded by how Yoongi’s very _low-key_ glaring at it.

 

“Jin-hyung,” even the way he anxiously says Jin’s name is cute. Yoongi wants to strangle Woozi’s tiny throat. “Is it okay for me to be here?”

 

Jungkook makes a noise at the back of his throat, because goddamn it if he’s falling for Woozi’s casual _aegyo_ too, “oh, of course hyung! It’s always great to meet new people. You must be tired after finishing rehearsal just now – you can hang out with us for a bit. Right, Yoongi-hyung?”

 

Yoongi grunts. “Won’t he have to hang around with his members first?” It’s true; rookie teams usually stick around each other to bask in newly-felt nerves for a bit. He almost feels bad for how Seokjin’s face falls a little. Almost.

 

But Seokjin’s face brightens up and he says, “we can all hang out together, then! Aren’t those your members playing at the basketball court? Yoongi-ah plays basket really well!” his face shines at Yoongi expectantly, and dammit, that’s really not fair.

 

“Yeah, okay,” Yoongi says almost immediately, and Seokjin claps his hands together gleefully because _that’s that, let me call Taehyungie and Hobi and everyone else_ , and Yoongi should be feeling glad about how he’s made Seokjin smile but all he can manage is not to scowl at Seokjin’s arm around Woozi’s shoulders as they go around to the rest of the group.

 

Jungkook just pats his arm consolingly, because Yoongi shouldn’t have doubted how nothing ever gets past the maknae. “Ah, hyung,” he comforts, and jogs off to scope out the competition.

 

\--

 

Hanging around Seventeen isn’t that bad, really. They’re just a bunch of loud, overexcited boys who yell too much when passing the ball and overreact too much when Yoongi’d score a particularly difficult shot. Their tallest member, Mingyu, was a particularly good player. It’d be great to complete with him again sometime, probably on a 2 v 2 against another tall kid called Wonwoo and a doe-eyed boy named S.Coups, because none of Yoongi’s own members can match with him the way these kids did at all.

 

Woozi, for his credit, proved to be more than the dumb aegyo machine Yoongi thought he first was. The kid’s manliness showed more when he was around his bandmates, calling out names and showing impressive footwork, and, well, Yoongi can relate with how Woozi has to make up for his size by trying to be twice as fast as the others.

 

So maybe now he regrets not-liking him earlier. A little.

 

They’re all grossly sweaty by the end of it, and a couple of kids – a mouthy boy named Seungkwan and that kid from Show Me The Money, Vernon – start passing out water bottles. Yoongi grabs two, thanks them, and makes his way to Woozi.

 

Woozi cuts his conversation off with S.Coups upon seeing him approach, and snaps to a standing bow immediately with a, “Suga-sunbaenim. Good game.”  Off to the side, S.Coups turns away to continue their conversation with Mingyu and Wonwoo, but not before nodding his head respectfully and flashing Yoongi a confident smile.

 

“At ease, Woozi-ah,” it’s kinda funny how Woozi’s body stutters to comply. Yoongi smirks, “don’t worry, man. This isn’t the army. Relax.”

 

He hands Woozi a water bottle. Woozi’s still a little skittish when he accepts it, so Yoongi says, “good game. You made use of your speed and spatial awareness well,” kinda like what he would’ve done. Did, actually, when he was a lot younger and a heck of a lot shorter.

 

Woozi clears his throat and flashes him a grateful smile, “thanks, hyung, but I’ve still got a lot to learn before I get to your level.”

 

It’s like this kid would never stop being nervous around him, because the silence afterwards is more than a little bit awkward. Yoongi didn’t really think much about coming over. The Daegu guy in him just wanted to reach out to this tiny underdog who is very obviously doing his hardest to beat the odds – and succeeding. Very hiphop, if he’d say so himself.

 

He’s gotta give credit for the kid for breaking the ice first, “I’m glad you don’t hate me, hyung.”

 

That’s...not what he expected. “What?” Woozi shrugs at him.

 

“You looked like you wanted to kill me in that tent earlier,” oh shit, was he that obvious? Yoongi laughs awkwardly. Shit. Woozi smiles at him, careful as if Yoongi was an animal he didn’t wanna spook, “listen, hyung, you know I’m not here to steal Jin-hyung away from you, right?”

 

 _Excuse me?_ “Mneh?” Yoongi manages. Woozi continues relentlessly,

 

“Jungkook-ah – I mean, Jungkook-sunbae and I – we talked earlier,” he’s going to _kill_ him – “I know my boundaries now, and I’m sorry if I gave you the wrong impression. Jin-hyung approached me first, like he literally just popped out of nowhere after rehearsals,” Woozi laughs, “I thought, ‘what can Jin-sunbae want from me?’ but it turned out for the better, right? It’s an honor.”

 

Of course Seokjin’s smooth like that. He just goes and gets what he wants, that bastard, because he knows he’s got the face mothers would trust. But there’s _one thing_ he hasn’t gone for, and, well.

 

Yoongi clears his throat, “I. I don’t think you’ve got it right. Jin and I, we’re…we’re not like _that_.”

 

“Oh?” Woozi enunciates slowly. His eyebrow crooks smartly, and for the life of him, Yoongi can’t figure out the look on his face. It’s unsettling, like _he_ ’s the one missing something.

 

“Hey guys,” ah, Jungkook, just the asshat Yoongi wanted to see, “Jin-hyung just asked Seventeen’s manager-hyung if they were free to eat dinner with us sometime. He says tomorrow’s good,” he looks at Woozi expectantly, “are you okay with that?”

 

What a fucking smooth criminal, this guy Kim Seokjin.

 

Woozi beams, “I’ll have to ask our leader!“ He turns, “Seungcheollie! We’re eating with Bangtan for dinner tomorrow!”

 

“Alright, food!” S.Coups cheers. A few of the other boys join him, and just like that, it’s done.

 

Yoongi flashes them a thumbs up. He tilts the corner of his mouth, whispers to Jungkook from it, “ _I am going to kill you.”_

\--

 

 _‘I’m going to kill you’_ translates to _‘we’ll talk about this later’_ , which turns out to be _‘we’ll talk about this, never’_ because Seokjin puts them all to work on different parts of tomorrow’s dinner. Both of the groups’ managers weren’t up to the idea of feeding 24 boys out of their companies’ budgets all at once, so a good compromise was to go for a potluck feast. And because Seventeen’s dorm was both detached from their practice room and was overly cluttered with stuff owned by 13 different boys, Bangtan’s dorm building was really the only venue available on such short notice.

 

Since Seokjin’s really the only one out of the boys who could manage something that isn’t ramen (though they still prepared a pot of spicy chicken ramen since it was the only thing they were sure all the boys would like), he’s the one managing the entirety of the kitchen. Hoseok’s, Jimin’s, and Taehyung’s endless energies were put into cleaning the practice room (which was gonna act as a de facto dining room), the bathroom, the dorm, and generally everywhere that needs _cleaning_.

 

Namjoon’s got the music and entertainment because that’s where he’d cause the least damage. That left Yoongi and Jungkook for kitchen assisting duty, and because Yoongi’s the only other person besides Seokjin who has a license to buy cooking wine, he’ll have to journey out into the cold while Jungkook gets to help Seokjin in the warm, cozy kitchen. That bastard.

 

Yoongi makes sure to bump Jungkook’s shoulder roughly on his way out. He isn’t angry, but it really wasn’t the asshole’s place to spread things around on Yoongi’s behalf – especially not to people they still barely knew and _especially_ when Yoongi’s still trying to keep his personal affairs to himself.

 

So okay, he’s a little bit angry.

 

Yoongi still finds his way to a nondescript store with a shopping population old enough not to recognize him. He calls Seokjin about 500 times to ask about brands and vegetable freshness and _they don’t have cooking wine here, do I just buy soju_ , but after what feels like hours (really only thirty minutes), he gathers enough dignity to make his way back home.

 

Jungkook’s at the sink, so he doesn’t see Yoongi enter the kitchen. However, he does an impressive attempt at hitting the upper shelves with his head when Yoongi speaks, “Jin-hyung, I got the stuff.”

 

“Just lay them out on the table, please,” Seokjin says over a bubbling pot of red substance. Yeah, Yoongi’s not gonna ask what that was, but he’s pretty sure it’s gonna come out good like almost everything Seokjin cooks. Not that he’ll ever admit to that.

 

It takes only a couple of minutes to lay out all the shit Seokjin made him buy. “I hope it won’t be bland as usual,” Yoongi says. He fumbles a bit with a plastic container, hesitates.

 

In the end Yoongi makes up his mind. He peers over Seokjin’s shoulder, raises something in his hand, goes as casually as he can, “Jin-hyung, say ‘ah’.”

 

Jungkook snickers from his post at the sink because Yoongi knows he probably sounded awkward as fuck, so it’s a great thing that their kitchen’s small so Yoongi can kick him without having to look. But Seokjin turns to Yoongi, sees the prize in his fist, and looks pleasantly surprised when he exclaims, “strawberry!”

 

Predictably, Seokjin immediately wraps his lips around the red bulb, and Yoongi helps him by gently tugging the stem free. Yoongi feels the back of his neck warm; the good part about being behind Seokjin is that Seokjin can’t see how stupidly Yoongi’s probably smiling right now.  There’s something natural about this gesture, like almost everything is with Seokjin, and there’s something poetic about feeding Seokjin bits of fruit while his hands are occupied with cooking dinner.

 

Of course, Jungkook’s stare on the back of Yoongi’s neck kinda ruins the moment. He kicks him again, aiming high, and Jungkook’s yelp completely satisfies.

 

“They were on sale, and I had some extra money from the budget you gave me,” Yoongi offers as an explanation. Yoongi’s also a big fat liar, but nobody’s gonna know how he spends his money. “You like these so, I figured you could use them or something.”

 

 _‘I like strawberries but not strawberry-flavored things’_ isn’t something Yoongi’s gonna confess to having committed to memory. Seokjin ‘hm’s, says thoughtfully,

 

“Ah, if you had extra money then I should’ve asked you to buy watermelon,” he gives the pot a slow stir. Yoongi frowns.

 

“Why?”                         

 

Seokjin beams, “it’s Woozi-ah’s favorite fruit!”

 

 _Fuck this,_ Yoongi doesn't say on his way out.

 

\--

 

“Seokjin-hyung’s worried he said something wrong,” Jungkook’s voice whispers across the room a few minutes later.

 

“I’m just tired,” Yoongi’s answer is muffled by his pillow. “Let me sleep or I’ll kill you.”

 

Jungkook squeaks and leaves the room.

 

Later that night, Yoongi pretends to be deep asleep when Seokjin tries to wake him for their movie session. Yoongi succeeds, but it still feels like he lost.

 

\--

 

Dinner with Seventeen goes without a hitch, and the practice room’s absolutely filled with food. The other boys brought in boxes of chicken, cake, and cupcakes, the latter of which Taehyung immediately hoards. By how well their managers and members are getting along, another get-together was imminent.

 

But Yoongi finds that it’s so, so difficult to enjoy himself when he's so aware of how much he'd failed.

 

He makes an effort not to eyeball how closely Seokjin’s talking with Woozi all the way at the other side of the room, focusing instead on how Jimin’s making a scene with Hoshi and Dokyum – or, Soonyoung and Seokmin. It’s surprisingly easy how Bangtan gets along with Seventeen, all their energies just naturally bouncing off each others’, and it almost feels like they’re back in their old trainee days again –  before rehearsals, before Bangtan, _before Seokjin met Woozi_.

 

 

That sudden feeling in his chest _isn’t_ his heart clenching, because how can all his thoughts just manage to casually return to _them_ over and over again? He forcefully _doesn’t look_ for the nth time, prays for alcohol to miraculously appear right about now, but the majority of Seventeen are minors and _wouldn’t Seokjin be so upset if innocent little Woozi got drunk under their roof?_

 

God-fucking-damnit.

 

Yoongi tries to involve himself with the others again, where Hoseok’s teaching Dino how to make raptor noises. The boys laugh, and Yoongi doesn’t miss how Vernon – Hansol – casually buries his chuckles into Seungkwan’s neck, how they stay like that for a while.

 

None of Seventeen pays them any mind, and after a beat, neither does Bangtan. It’s the epitome of natural.

 

It’s painstakingly sweet. It’s unfair.

 

“I need to pee,” he says. Jisoo and Jeonghan, the calmer members of the group, nod politely and continue their stuttering conversation with Junhui and Minghao. Yoongi’s a liar without intentions of going to the bathroom, obviously, because he goes to his and Seokjin’s room instead. It’s not the best place to wallow in self-pity, but Yoongi pops the windows open and breathes and the world’s just gonna have to deal with it.

 

“Hey.” Yoongi jolts, almost smashes his forehead against the windowsill because _now_ the room’s just become the worst place to wallow in self-pity. And like some divine being has it out for him it’s Seokjin who enters the room.

 

He’s wielding a plate of something that smells good and familiar, and when Yoongi breathes in, he recognizes it as the chicken-and-chili dish that Seokjin made some time ago.

 

“It’s the CTFDCP dish, remember?” Seokjin smiles. He lifts a spoon loaded with the stuff, “say ‘ah’.”

 

Yoongi’s stomach’s already full with a can of soda and about two servings of ramen, but he doesn’t resist the spoon going past his lips. He’s never been good with denying Seokjin much, lately. Doesn’t even remember the last time he did.

 

“It’s good,” he says, swallowing.

 

Seokjin looks satisfied. He makes Yoongi take another large bite, and sets the plate down next to their TV. He takes a moment to fidget with the edge of his shirt, the way he usually does when he’s unsure of something, and Yoongi wants to say something to break the ice but Yoongi’s mouth is still full of chicken.

 

 _The jerk._ He probably planned it, all subtle trickery wrapped in kindness, and it makes Yoongi like him a little bit more.

 

 “Yoongi,” Seokjin starts, “I’m sorry.”

 

“Mmbfl?” Yoongi tries to swallow; chokes. Seokjin holds a hand up, so Yoongi slows his chewing.

 

Seokjin continues, “look, we haven’t been connecting as well lately,” ever since _Woozi_ came into the picture, really, “and I’m not sure what I did, but I…I didn’t mean it. I –“ he shifts, and Yoongi wants to hug the contriteness off his face, “ – I must’ve sounded really ungrateful yesterday, with the strawberries and stuff.”

 

Yoongi’s already managed to swallow his food a few seconds ago, but it would’ve been stupid to interrupt Seokjin when he’s trying so hard to apologize for something Yoongi thinks he doesn’t even need to apologize for. When Seokjin doesn’t follow it up, Yoongi sighs, sits on Seokjin’s bed, and pats the spot beside him. Seokjin follows.

 

“Jin-hyung, it’s not a big deal. I’m just…I’m stupid,” his throat clenches, “I know you were just thinking about Woozi, and what he would like.”

 

Who’s business was it, really, if Seokjin just wants to do little things to show how much he likes someone? Yoongi’s been an idiot doing the same thing all this time. He clears his throat, “It’s…I really shouldn’t be getting in the way of you trying to impress the person you like. I should be the one saying sorry.”

 

Yoongi stares at his hands intensely. That’s it, he’s said it. He’s officially giving up. But Seokjin makes this puzzled noise, and goes,

 

“’Person I like’? Do you think –“ the corners of Seokjin’s mouth tilt up, and his eyes curve like crescent moons, and before Yoongi knows it Seokjin starts laughing softly. _What?_

“Yoongi, I don’t like Woozi that way,” Seokjin says, to Yoongi’s confusion, “I just think he’s a really cute dongsaeng. He’s like a really, really cute baby.”

 

 _He’s such a talented baby_ , Yoongi remembers Seokjin cooing, that one movie night ages ago. Seokjin’s eyes are gentle, “you know that I like small, cute things, don’t you? Look,” he waves at his obnoxiously colorful collection of Mario toys, cluttered all over Seokjin’s side of the room, “but that’s all it is.”

 

It seems too easy. “You don’t have to lie,” Yoongi states, because, okay, for someone who only means the barest of friendships, Seokjin was pretty insistent in making sure Bangtan and Seventeen got along well together. Seokjin huffs.

 

“How else am I gonna have to prove it to you? Min Yoongi, in this real, social world you work so hard to avoid –“ Yoongi makes a noise of protest, which Seokjin quells with a hand, “ – people make friends by inviting other people to hang out and to eat with each other! It’s normal.”

 

“Normal?” Really, Seokjin’s got no place to say that right now. Yoongi stalks away from the bed, starts pacing. “You think _stalking_ a kid over the internet and obsessing over him is considered normal in the realms of – of _friendship_?” He points at Seokjin, accuses, “last time I heard, _Kim Seokjin_ , only our fangirls did that. Fangirls who, god forbid, just want to _hook up with us_!”

 

Seokjin’s expression changes slightly, like he’s a cross between annoyed and angry. He’s still sat primly on the bed, but to Yoongi, the way his ears flame violently pink confirms everything.

 

Yoongi gestures wildly, “look, there it is! You like him! You do! You’re just – you just –“

 

“I don’t like him, okay!” Seokjin bursts out, “I don’t like him Yoongi! I just liked how he reminded me of _you_.”

 

That’s –

 

Wait –

 

“W-what?” Yoongi asks numbly. The violent pink has spread to Seokjin’s cheeks. Abashed, he covers his alarm-red ears and ducks his face between his knees. He presses his face into the mattress, looking, for all he was worth, like a turtle hiding in its shell.

 

“Hit me if you want,” Seokjin mumbles against the edge of the bed. He sounds small, frightened. “Hit me for being weird. I promise never to watch movies with you again. I can change rooms. Just – please don’t hate me.”

 

In just a matter of seconds, the entire situation’s turned on its head. What the fuck’s Yoongi supposed to do, now? If Seokjin’s saying what he thinks he is, then he…he –

 

Yoongi’s knees make a dull thudding sound when they land on the floor in front of Seokjin. He wraps his hands around Seokjin’s wrists, and when they don’t budge, Yoongi pries his fingers to slip around Seokjin’s face. “Jin-hyung. Jin,” he begs, “please look at me. I don’t hate you. Please, please look.”

 

Seokjin’s face lifts up under Yoongi’s insistent fingers, but his eyes are screwed shut so tightly that he could develop crows feet from this alone. Yoongi massages the edges of his eyes with his thumbs, smoothing the creases away from his brows, and if he’s trembling a little it’s because he suddenly feels so, so light, like bubbles rising up his chest, up his throat.

 

“Jin-hyung, I –,” Yoongi breathes, he almost doesn’t want to ask but _he needs to make sure,_ “are you saying that you – you like me?”

 

Seokjin winces, and his shoulders tense like he’s bracing himself, “ _yes, okay_. I’m sorry.”

 

“But I don’t get it,” Yoongi presses, “you always just went for what you wanted –“ just went in without thought of consequences, without hesitating, like chasing his friendship with Woozi –

 

“If you didn’t notice, Yoongi,” Seokjin’s laugh is like brittle glass, “you’re different. You – we have so much at stake here. I couldn’t risk _Bangtan_. Couldn’t risk _you_.”

 

“Oh, for god’s sake, is _that_ all?” Yoongi laughs, loudly and breathlessly. He leans in.

 

\--

 

 

 

\--

 

“It’s Min Yoongi and _Mini_ Yoongi!” Taehyung calls. Yoongi shoves him away with excessive force.

 

“He has a name, Taehyung-ah. It’s Jihoon.”

 

Woozi – _Jihoon_ – smiles up at him gratefully, tucked under Yoongi’s arm, and okay, that's a look that can make hearts swell. In front of them Seokjin holds up a polaroid.

 

“Alright, time to make some fans freak out!” He grins, “on three, two, one, say – kimchi!”

 

“Kimchi!” Jihoon and Yoongi chime together. The camera flashes.

 

 

 

\--

 

 

 

“Yoongi-hyung, we have guests!” Namjoon yells. Yoongi grunts an acknowledgement, saves his work on the computer, and opens the door to the dorm’s miniature production studio. Light floods in almost immediately, and it’s a bitch on the eyes so Yoongi tries to close the door again. A foot blocks that attempt.

 

“It’s almost like you don’t want to see me, hyung,” Jihoon jokes. His hair’s a weird gradient of fuschia and blonde, now. Yoongi snorts.

 

“You look like a watermelon.”

 

“It’s my favorite fruit,” Jihoon offers as defense. He welcomes himself through the door, followed by Wonwoo. He leads himself to the bin in the corner of the room, grabs two headsets, “how’re we gonna hit the mixtape today?”

 

Yoongi opens a new file, lines up the tracks, “I’m thinking we can continue working on the overall tonality of the main song. What do you think about adding a second vocal layer to the chorus?” he pauses, looks around, “where’s Seungcheol and Mingyu? We need all the rappers for this.”

 

Jihoon shrugs, “they’re with Jin-hyung right now. Said they wanted to learn some new cooking tricks since they’re really the only ones who can cook in Seventeen.” He grins sheepishly, “Seungcheollie says we can’t possibly all survive on Chinese takeout forever, so.”

 

At that moment, a bunch of pans clatter together somewhere in the dorm. Yoongi sighs, opens the door just in time to Seokjin yelling, “ _Yoongi get these kids out of my kitchen or I swear to god –_ “ Seungcheol and Mingyu dash around the corner, armloads of sweets in their arms, because they obviously just went to the kitchen to raid the fridge.

 

“We’ll get locked in here too long to actually go outside, anyway,” Mingyu justifies once he and Seungcheol are safely in the room, “growing boys need food to make good music!”

 

And, well, Yoongi can’t argue with that so he locks the door behind them. What the boys don’t know is that he and Seokjin restock the fridge every time the younger boys are scheduled to come over, because Seokjin’s a sweetheart who purposefully buys them their favorite snacks while pretending that the junk's all meant for him. Seokjin’s a health nut who watches his sugar intake, and Yoongi wonders how the Seventeen boys haven’t figured it out yet.

 

They munch on unhealthy complex sugars for a bit, but then there’s something in the pile that shouldn’t be there.

 

“Hey,” Yoongi reaches out, “give me that.”

                                                                                                                                                                  

Seungcheol whines, but hands it over. Yoongi stands and relinquishes the controls to Jihoon, who takes his seat immediately.

 

“Review the bridge, alright?” he bids, ruffles Jihoon’s watermelon hair, and leaves the room.

 

Seokjin’s still re-sorting the pots and pans when Yoongi gets to the kitchen. Seokjin's so consumed in reorganizing, even tiptoeing to ease the wok into the upper shelf. Both his hands are occupied, and it’s perfect.

 

Yoongi loops an arm around his waist, raises his other hand to Seokjin’s face and grins, “say, ‘ah’.”

 

“Aish, really, at this time –“ Seokjin complains, but there’s a smile in his voice. His lips wrap around the strawberry, and Yoongi waits until Seokjin’s bitten through the fruit before easing the stem from between his lips.

 

The motions are so ridiculously natural, so ridiculously reminiscent of how Yoongi’d felt the first time he did it, so he tiptoes to land a wet _smack!_ on Seokjin’s pursed mouth, because _now_ he can. He puts the container of strawberries on the counter, definitely not smiling to himself, because Min Yoongi’s not a sap.

 

“Gross parents,” Jungkook calls annoyingly from his perch in front of the living room TV.

 

Just for that, Yoongi kisses Seokjin again.

**Author's Note:**

> Hope you guys enjoyed!  
> Please leave a kudos to show me you liked it and a comment to tell me what parts you liked / think i should fix! :D
> 
> Or, please remember to leave a kudos/comment to keep me alive~! <3
> 
> Thank you!!

**Works inspired by this one:**

  * [In Which Low-Key Kissing Happens](https://archiveofourown.org/works/5395643) by [itsdatrollmon](https://archiveofourown.org/users/itsdatrollmon/pseuds/itsdatrollmon)




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